The Dreamtrap - 25. Chapter 25

- XXV -

Henry knew that he was about to lose this battle; he knew it, but he tried nevertheless. The portal was fainting much faster than it did before, and much faster than Henry was able to place frantic, trembling strokes onto the canvas. He could hear Julian grit his teeth silently right next to his shoulder, and he didn’t care.

“Shit, shit, shit...” he kept muttering feverishly while his brush was flying above the painting. “Oh, bloody hell...!” he screamed out with frustrated, helpless anger.

He had maybe one single stroke left to force the damn portal to stay alive yet again, when the treacherous thing shimmered slightly, and then it disappeared out of sight – this time, there was no fainting; just slight shimmer, and then vanishing.

“Goddammit...!” Julian growled behind Henry’s shoulder, and for several seconds, the artist believed that the blond was going to hurt him. “Paint another one!” Salamander ordered instead. “In the same place... Now!” he barked when Henry just stood there, his shoulders rigid as if he were expecting a blow.

Henry blinked when he realized that Julian didn’t plan on hurting him; at least, not yet. He quickly smashed his brush into the palette, and started drawing those oval blue lines again.

“What the...” he said incredulously after seeing the first line disappear off canvas as soon as Henry placed it there.

The artist delivered several more frantic, quick strokes, just so the painting could swallow them as well. He threw a panicking look at the pale blond.

“I don’t...” he started saying, but Julian interrupted him.

“Try again,” he said quietly through his clenched teeth.

Henry knew that it would be useless, but he never said anything, wisely deciding against arguing with Salamander right now, and turned towards the painting, his brush lingering in the air. Suddenly, there was some strange, muffled sound coming from the bed, and Henry frowned and turned around.

Julian lunged towards the bed and towered over very tense Gabriel, his eyes locked on Desmond. The ex-assassin produced another strange muffled gurgle in the back of his throat, his fingers twitching rapidly, and Gabriel grabbed his shoulders.

“Desmond...?” he muttered in feverish disbelief. “Desmond...? Des...!”

Desmond groaned louder this time, and then suddenly, his entire body jerked violently, and he bolted upwards, his eyes flying open.

“Des...” Gabriel whispered, staring at his finally conscious mate without blinking. “Holy hell, Des...!”

Desmond’s gaze locked on something only he could see, his breathing erratic. Finally, he blinked and looked at Gabriel.

“Rayhe...” he muttered, and Gabriel produced a sound that was a mix of laughter and a sob, and pulled him closer, locking his arms around Desmond’s still trembling body.

Desmond dropped his head into Rayhe’s shoulder and closed his eyes.

“Where is Raven?” Julian asked sharply without taking his eyes off the ex-assassin.

Desmond straightened up and looked at the blond with a small, puzzled frown, as if wondering how the hell he got here. Then he blinked and shifted his gaze towards Raven who was laying still, his expression the same as before, his breathing slow and even.

“Did you leave him there?” Julian’s voice sounded dangerous right now, to say the least; his eyes narrowed to two dark and very cold slits.

“No...” Desmond muttered without looking away from his unconscious labyrinth-companion. “I didn’t... I had him when I jumped...”

Julian threw a quick glance at Raven and gritted his teeth when he saw no changes whatsoever. He looked at Desmond again.

“You are lying,” he said with quiet hatred. “If you left him there, then help you God...!”

“I am not lying!” Desmond replied sharply. “He passed out right before I jumped! Probably that’s why he is not waking up...! I didn’t leave him there!”

“Don’t you dare...!” Rayhe said quietly when Julian’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly as if he were about to close them. “Don’t you dare doing anything to him! If you even try something, I swear to God...”

A quiet, pleading moan interrupted him, and all four men in the room simultaneously looked at Raven, who produced that moan. Julian quickly walked towards his side of the bed and sat down. Raven let out another moan – this one was louder – and then his body jerked in the same violent fashion as Desmond’s did five minutes ago, and he bolted upright, his eyes wild, trickle of blood running down from his nose.

“Raven...” the blond muttered and pulled him closer to himself, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Wasn’t lying,” Desmond said darkly without moving away from Gabriel. “Your nose is bleeding,” he said several seconds later, looking at Raven, who pressed his body into the blond’s so hard, it seemed like he wanted to dissolve in it somehow.

Raven blinked at that and slowly brought his hand to his face. He ran his fingers under his nose and looked at his fingertips, frowning thoughtfully when he saw that they were indeed covered in blood.

“Yeah,” he muttered and dropped his head onto Julian’s shoulder. “That’s fine... I would always get nosebleeds if I covered someone for too long... It’ll pass soon... What happened?” he frowned slightly, looking at Desmond without lifting his head from Salamander’s shoulder.

“You passed out,” Desmond answered quietly, entwining his fingers with Gabriel’s and moving even closer to him. “We made it half-way there and you passed out...”

“Those...” Raven paused for a second, as if searching for the right word. “Dogs...?” he said finally.

“Yeah, they heard that right away,” Desmond nodded. “And saw too, for that matter...” He shrugged. “All good though; I told you that I could run fast,” he grinned even though he was still shaking.

“How did it even...” Raven frowned. “How did you know where the exit was?”

“I heard Rayhe’s voice,” Desmond said simply, and Julian opened his eyes just so he could shoot Gabriel a dark ‘I-told-you-so’ look.

Now it was Rayhe’s turn to squeeze his eyes shut. Julian sighed and straightened up without letting go of Raven.

“Bloody hell...” he said to no one in particular, his gaze fixed on his mate.

“What are you doing here?” Desmond straightened up as well, a small, demanding frown playing with his forehead.

“As soon as I saw you in that painting, I headed this way,” the blond said somewhat dryly.

“Right, the painting...” Desmond muttered. “Wait...” He frowned again. “How long have we been gone?” he asked.

“Ten days,” Gabriel sighed and opened his eyes.

“Ten days?” Raven repeated incredulously, staring at Julian. The blond nodded silently. “Holy hell... Felt like ten hours at the most,” Raven muttered.

Then his eyes stopped on silent and rigid Henry who was still squeezing his brush.

“Who is he?” Raven asked in a low voice.

“He painted the bloody thing,” Julian answered without turning his head to look at the artist; it seemed that now, after Raven was back, Henry didn’t interest the blond in the slightest.

“He painted it?” Raven asked incredulously and raised his head, staring at the wary artist.

Desmond didn’t say anything but his gaze suddenly became alert.

“How did you even find him?” Raven finally looked away from Henry, shifting his gaze to Julian.

“I didn’t find him,” the blond sighed. “He found me... I’ll tell you later,” he nodded when he saw an unasked question in brunet’s eyes. “Oh, by the way,” he added. “Before I get rid of the damn thing for good...” He glanced at the painting and gestured for Henry to move aside. The artist took several slow steps sideways.

“Looks familiar?” Julian asked, and Raven looked at the painting, as did Desmond. Then both of them became identically wide-eyed and mute.

“I thought you killed her!” Raven managed finally, and Julian sighed again.

“I destroyed her physical body,” he said unwillingly. “Not her essence... The mirror that you broke...” He glanced at Desmond. “Got her out of this plane as soon as her physical body was damaged beyond repair... Hence the mirror labyrinth, I suppose,” he shrugged.

Desmond shifted his gaze towards Raven.

“You said you didn’t recognize the woman in the picture,” he said in a low voice.

“I didn’t,” Raven nodded slowly without looking away from the painting. “It wasn’t Magda when I first saw that one reflection; it was an entirely different person! Her hair was longer, her nose was somewhat long, and her mouth was wider...”

“That’s Michelle,” Henry sighed deeply. “The woman I painted before everything started to change,” he explained to both – Raven and Desmond when they stared at him questioningly.

“Well, that explains the head-fuckery,” Desmond muttered darkly.

“What head-fuckery?” Julian frowned at that.

“Ooh,” Desmond sighed. “She would throw random illusions at us... Apparently, she was able to get into our heads, because all those illusions would come straight from our past.”

“She said she could do that,” Henry said quietly, and Desmond looked at him. “When she first appeared to us...” He closed his eyes for a fraction of a second. “Me...” he continued evenly. “She said that since she was right next to my reflection, she could get into my head... She said she knew all about me,” he nodded darkly.

Suddenly, Raven laughed softly, and Julian looked at him, his eyebrow slightly raised.

“The last illusion was interesting,” Raven said in a low voice, and Desmond cursed inaudibly under his breath.

“What was it?” the blond asked with the same expression after throwing a quick glance at Desmond.

“We came across both of us fucking each other’s brains out,” Raven said with a half-smile, and Julian blinked at that, as did Gabriel. “The funny thing though,” Raven continued with the same half-smile. “...was the fact that she simply re-played one of our scenarios, replacing you with him...” he glanced at Desmond. “I was wondering why whoever the hell got us there would do something like that...” He hemmed. “Now I see,” he nodded, his smile never leaving his mouth.

“Which scenario?” Julian asked in a low voice, and Desmond blinked at that. The blond shrugged after seeing that. “It was an illusion,” he said. “It is obvious that she failed getting to you...” Here he narrowed his eyes, staring at Desmond with more intensity. “Unless it’s not true in your case...” he said slowly, and Rayhe blinked at that rather rapidly, locking his gaze on Desmond, who rolled his eyes with very clear, frustrated annoyance.

“Believe me...” he started saying when Raven interrupted him.

“No,” he said quietly. “That’s not the reason for his look...” He smiled slowly. “He is pissed because he actually complimented your imagination,” he said in a low voice and grinned when Desmond muttered something inaudible in a very dark voice. “He didn’t know it was your position,” he nodded with the same smile playing with the corners of his mouth.

“What position would that be?” Gabriel asked quietly, and Desmond shot him a quick look. “Did we ever...”

“No,” Desmond shook his head immediately, and then sighed in defeat. “You’ll like it though,” he sighed again, and then he narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “I am pretty sure you are flexible enough,” he nodded slowly.

“I see,” Julian said with a small, smug smile stretching his mouth. “Well...” He got up and intently stared at the painting for a couple of seconds.

Suddenly, there was a low, rumbling noise, the painting slightly shook, and then it glowed bright red for a few seconds. Henry made a surprised, yelping sound, stepping away in a stumbled hurry.

“Wait...!” Gabriel said sharply, throwing his arm forward, trying to get Julian’s attention, but he was too late – the painting glowed one last time, and then it vanished without a trace. “Dammit...!” Rayhe said with frustration, and Julian gave him a puzzled look.

“I am not keeping this thing around,” he said slowly. “Without the painting, she won’t be able to get to him anymore... Them,” he shrugged. “By the way,” he glanced at Raven. “If you start hearing random doorbells again, tell me right away. I figured it out too late,” he sighed. “Whenever the labyrinth is about to suck you in, you hear chimes. When you hear the third one on a row, you are gone,” he nodded. “I never even thought of that until last Friday,” he sighed again.

“I could’ve blocked the painting,” Gabriel said with the same frustrated intonation. “Nothing would be able to go in or out... Dammit!”

“Why?” the blond seemed to be clearly puzzled. “That painting wasn’t safe even with the blocks, therefore...”

“He started dreaming of Raven after Raven got the damn thing,” Gabriel said sharply. “There had to be a connection! I wanted to try and figure it out...!”

“Speaking of dreaming,” Raven said thoughtfully. “Apparently, we...” he glanced at Desmond. “...share some sort of a bond,” he finished with a slight nod.

“What kind of a bond?” Julian frowned.

“I have no idea,” Raven shook his head and told them about the paragraph he found.

Julian thoughtfully nibbled on his lower lip for a minute or so after he heard that. Gabriel seemed puzzled as well.

“Have you met him before...” Julian started saying, looking at Desmond.

“No,” the ex-assassin interrupted him immediately. “The first time I’ve ever seen him in my entire life was three months ago, in that alley. I am positive,” he nodded firmly.

“We’ve never met until then,” Raven nodded as well.

Finally, after several more minutes of thoughtful silence, Salamander shrugged and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“I will figure it out,” he said while dialing the number. “You can do the same,” he threw a quick glance at gloomy Gabriel. “We are leaving,” he pressed the phone against his ear. “Bring the car,” he said into the phone several seconds later and snapped the gadget shut.

“This is clearly not over,” Gabriel said with a frown.

“It is for now,” the blond nodded. “I am sure I will be able to prevent any further disturbances, and eventually, I will figure out how to get rid of her for good. However, for now, it is over,” he nodded. “Stay out of his dreams,” he added quietly, looking at Desmond once again.

“With pleasure,” the ex-assassin muttered darkly.

Julian cocked his head slightly to the right.

“Our car is here,” he nodded and draped his arm around Raven’s shoulders. “Let’s go... Goodbye,” he said mildly before turning around.

“Umm...” Henry said uncomfortably, and the blond stopped, throwing him a questioning look. “Umm...” the artist said again. “What about me...?”

“What about you?” Julian seemed genuinely puzzled, and Henry blinked at that rapidly.

“Oh, for the love of God,” Gabriel rolled his eyes. “You brought him here!” he said sharper than he intended. “Take him back...!”

Salamander’s expression became indifferent.

“He doesn’t concern me anymore,” he said with a small shrug. “I am not going to inconvenience myself for no reason.”

Rayhe stared at him with narrow eyes.

“He has no money,” he started saying. “He doesn’t know anyone in this city...”

“He knows you,” Julian interrupted him with the same indifferent intonation. Then a small smile reflected on his mouth. “Technically, you...” he looked at silently fuming Desmond. “...owe him for getting you out,” he finished with a nod. “Goodbye,” he added after a second, and then he grabbed Raven’s shoulders even tighter and they left without saying anything else.

“Damn him!” Desmond muttered after he heard the front door open and close. “Goddamn him!”

Gabriel sighed in defeat.

“I will reserve a plane ticket for you,” he said mildly to Henry, whose jaw was locked very tightly right then.

The artist threw him a quick, dark look, and this time, it was Desmond who rolled his eyes.

“No, you won’t have to blow him in return,” he said with a snort, and Henry stared at him without blinking.

Gabriel sighed again.

“Des, don’t,” he said quietly. “Get out of his head,” he nodded when Desmond gave him a mildly curious look. “His girlfriend was a will-tamer; he’s been violated enough...” He looked at teeth grinding Henry. “I am going to call for a ticket now. What is your last name?”

“Allister,” Henry muttered, and Gabriel nodded and left the room.

Desmond lit a cigarette and thoughtfully looked at the very tense artist.

“Your girlfriend was a puppeteer?” he asked in a low voice. “Finally managed to get away from her, huh...” he hemmed when Henry wouldn’t say anything. “Good for you... How did you do it though?” he squinted his eyes. “Puppeteers are not easy to dump...”

“I didn’t dump her,” Henry said almost forcefully. “Julian killed her.”

“I see...” Desmond said slowly, dragging on his cigarette.

“At first,” Henry said suddenly. “He wanted to kill me, since he figured I was the useless one...” He let out a small, dark smile. “Then I told him that I painted that damn thing and he changed his mind...”

Desmond got off the bed and walked to the open window, enjoying cool breeze on his face.

“If you ask me,” he said calmly. “It was a win-win situation for you...” He threw a quick glance at Henry and shrugged when he saw his expression. “Puppeteers don’t make good partners,” he said almost casually.

Henry gritted his teeth again.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said tightly, and Desmond nodded and turned towards the window again.

“All right,” Gabriel walked into the room several minutes later. “Your plane leaves in three hours; I figured you would like to get out of here as soon as possible. I also called you a cab; it should be here in ten minutes.”

“Thanks,” Henry muttered without looking at him.

“Don’t mention it,” Gabriel shrugged. “Julian was right; we do owe you...”

“No, you don’t,” Henry finally looked at him with a dark smile. “I didn’t have any choice; I didn’t do it out of my own will, so...”

“Doesn’t matter,” Rayhe shrugged again. “You did it nevertheless.”

They stood in silence for several minutes, Henry’s body rigid next to the easel, Gabriel standing near Desmond by the open window, his fingers never leaving Desmond’s short hair. Finally, there was a loud, shrill honk ripping the night apart, and Gabriel straightened up.

“Your cab is here,” he looked at the artist. “Take it with you,” he nodded at the easel, and Henry frowned. “We don’t need it,” Gabriel shrugged. “Here, it folds...”

It took him maybe two minutes to take the easel apart and he handed it to hesitant Henry. Another honk broke the silence.

“Go,” Gabriel nodded. “Stay away from Julian,” he sighed.

“Right...” Henry muttered. “Umm, thanks...”

“No problem,” Gabriel nodded again. “Go...!”

The artist threw last look at silent Desmond and left the room, clutching onto the easel. Desmond sighed with relief and flicked his cigarette out of the window.

“Finally...!” he muttered, crossing the room in a few quick steps. “I thought he would never leave!” He yanked Gabriel towards himself, immediately assaulting his mouth while his hands busied themselves with pulling off Rayhe’s clothes.

“Mmm,” Gabriel said and pulled away just a little. “Now, that position...”

“On the floor,” Desmond nodded, slightly moving his shoulders to help Rayhe to pull off his shirt. “Just throw a blanket on the carpet, I hate carpet burns... Believe me,” he nodded again and kicked away his pants. “If we do it on the bed, we’ll end up on the floor anyway...”

“A blanket it is,” Gabriel agreed without saying anything else.